Brotherly Love
by Talocvovim
Summary: Season 7 Sam, Dean, Bobby, Garth, Ofc, Lemon, solo, date rape,mmf,fxf, loads of citrus and foul language. Maybe multi Genre x over
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer:I don't own Supernatural. This is Wish fulfillment fan fiction.

Supernatural Fan fiction- Brotherly Love

Setting Season 8, After the Slice Girls Deveraux had been violently murdered, and the Winchester brothers are at a loss as numerous foes become unlikely allies. And wanna be side kicks shadow our Hunting duo. Both brothers have the murder of a personal loved one to the other causing a fissure in their Brotherhood. Amy, the Kitsune having been slaughtered and her kit, Jacob, left behind by Dean for revenge. Sam, after killing Dean's daughter Emma, the magically genetically altered hybrid daughter of an Amazon. The Only thing they have been able to do is bury the pain in an ocean of beer. For the first time since Bobby died in the Hospital they feel yet again alone.

Bobby, now a ghost haunting the two brothers has one last thing to do before he can move on.

The Colonial Suite at the Pineapple Inn, Macomb Illinois

Dean woke up to the same annoying noise since childhood. The sound of his little brother Sammy snoring. Though, oddly but not uncommonly, the sound came closer than from a cross the room and in his own queen sized bed. Slightly dazed he opened his eyes.

"Sammy," He said hoarsely. "You better not have puked on your pillow. I am not cleaning that-"

Dean was cut short by a foreign entity , having figured it was only Sam passed out on the bed after a night of heavy drinking. Sure enough Sam was there, in a king sized bed, with a woman between the two of them. This was definitely against their code of never doing it in the same room unless twins were involved. He scrambled out of the bed, tangled in the sheets and hit his butt hard on the plush floor. "Awe man..." Dean began to scour his memory of the previous night for answers, but every memory came with a dull wave of pain not unlike a hang over.

He remembered that he and Sam went too a Buffalo Wild Wings off the interstate. There were some trailer trashy girls, a new waitress in training who was an absolute knock out, a few truckers, a mill worker, a miner and a couple sports enthusiasts watching the Hockey game. There was the woman who was now between Dean and Sam, there in the center of a few of the truckers as they placed bets against her in a drinking game. She had ten shots of Tequila racked out, and two bottles of Red Eye Coffee Porter to chase it with. She was drinking a more heavy set trucker under the table. She looked miserable and bitter. Her face was puffy from the tears soaking it, and she fixed a determined scowl on her heart shaped face.

"Here there, Sweetheart."

"What do you want?" She asked, wiping her tears from her chin.

"I want you to smile sweet cheeks, I think you're about to be a whole lot richer." Dean said, throwing down a hundred on the girl to win. She gave him his obligatory smile and knocked back another one.

He smiled and winked biting into a chicken wing that was a touch too spicey, and the spice landed right on the back of his throat. Seeing his emmanet need, She handed him her beer. He began to chug, clearing the offending substance and staggered backwards into the bar. His head was swimming and he hadn't even begun to drink his first beer sat firmly where Sam's other two had been. Sam, back from the bathroom toweling his hands dry with a paper towel.

"Dean?" Sam walked over and rolled his eyes over his drunken brother.

"Sorry about that, He's my Brother. I'll get him outta here." Sam said settling up their tab and taking a quick last swallow of what he thought was his own beer.

The opponent fell off the booth. The girl scooped up the money and followed Sam to the Parking Lot.

"Hey, I'll help you get him back and save ya money on a cab. The Pineapple Inn's up the road." She offered.

"Thanks, I got it...Wow, is it me or is it hot out here?" He asked.

"Both." She giggled, causing him to giggle uncharacteristically. "But I'm no judge I just had eleven shots of Gold and three red eyes, so I'm not a very good judge of temperature. And right now your brother looks to be about 185 punds of dead weight, even for an eleven minute walk, that's a bit much. But you're in luck, I'm just drunk enough to move a moose. So you staying at the Inn?"

"Yeah."

"Me too, see it's even on my way, Might ash well have some one ta talk to."

"Looks like you're having a little trouble yourself." He smirked.

"Nope." She was able to pick up Dean a couple inches off the ground

"What am I a Kitten?"

"Okay maybe not."

"S'wadda you do?" Dean asked trying to chat her up, mumbling. She was warm, human, female, kinda cute which fit his criteria.

"Uh, well I'm working on a case." She stammered guiltily, something Sam picked up on quickly. "I am a manufacturing specialist for a Fortune 500 company. Heh, Boring stuff, I'm afraid. Damn...It's getting hot. Could've sworn it's February."

"It's Valentines Day." Sam said Matter-of-factually.

"Oh, you mean singles awareness day." She giggled ridiculously and tried to regain her composure. "Sorry, sorry, Didn't mean to assume. You guys are too hot to not have girlfriends...or boyfriends...or maybe you look nice but are secretly douche bags..."

"Or third option, we're on the road a lot...for work, and Most relationships don't last." Dean said as he stumbled into the locked hotel room door.

"Sorry, I'm just a little jaded. My ex w-was really hot like you guys. Came home and found a note on the bed. The S.O.B. cleaned out my account and my electronics in my apartment and is probably half way to Perth by now."

"Australia?" Sam asked while Dean fumbled around drunkenly by the door.

"Hey Sam-O!"

"Shh, Dean keep it down, what?"

"You got the room key?"

"No, you said it was Valentines and you were the only one getting any tonight so I had to sleep in the car." Sam reminded him. A crack of Thunder rolled across the sky and a cloud burst dowsed the stranded trio.

"I guess I'll call the after hours number."

"Good luck with that." She giggled."Because this is Macomb, and they May-Come if it's before 8 pm. I've stayed here before ended up having to put out for another room at the Holiday Inn Express. Aside from that the after hours line is disconnected. No one here till noon tomorrow." She got a bit wobbly on her own feet.

"Look it's late, you're gonna catch your death, I guess. As long as you don't plan on Killing or raping me you can hang out in my room until they open up, or you can get your key tomorrow. Sound fair?"

"Yesh derby muth" Dean replied."...SAM! I think I'm in a K-hole!"

"K-hole...?" She looked down. "Damned Spooners!"

"Drugged?" Sam realized. "Who are the spooners?"

"College kids, they're locals who cooked up this stuff called Rock and roll."

"And that is?"

"Street name for Gamma-hydroxybutyrate mixed with Phenylethylamine."

"Not so up on the Chem speak."

"Roofies and Ecstasy with out the uppers, just the delay motor function, you can't feel your face, everything else feels close you start seeing things that aren't there...and you get hot."

"Like we are now? But how?" Sam asked.

"Those truckers!" She epiphanized. "C'mon, it's gonna get worse we could collapse right here in the rain and god knows what-else"

They dropped Dean on to her King sized bed. They nearly bonked heads. Being so close, mere inches away, breathing in her sweet body wash and his after shave. Their eyes met, and locked like magnets.

Dean could see the heat between those two eminating like Lava, he actually saw lava, but it might have been the drugs. He nudged her butt into his brother so their lips met. The rest seemed natural. A deep movie worthy kiss with all the intimacy of a 60 yearold couple. A movie worthy kiss. Then she felt Dean lift up the back of her shirt and leave a hot trail of kisses down to her tail bone.

She broke away for a breathless moment. "Your brother-I-I gave him my beer, to clear his throat. Ah-I never got it back."

Sam quickly unbuttoned his shirt. "And I think I might have finished his beer."

"Why do you say that?" She asked dizzy, another crack of thunder made her jump a little.

"Because right now your hair is soft as feather downe and I'm really thirsty." He replied.

Dean pulled her pants down and She began unbuttoning Sam's jeans. Before he lost himself completely in the moment Sam made a phone call. "It's Sam, we're in Macomb, we need your help. Pineapple-"

The three writhed with pleasure. The rest for Dean was blurry. Just moans, giggles and smiles, and a feeling of content release. Now Sam lay there, with only a thin blanket hiding his boy parts and an arm draped around their nameless stranger. An over all scan of the room indicated a drunken night, all parties may have been drugged but wht he couldn't account for was the chair in the middle of the room , out of place, with an empty can of grape soda and an empty bag of microwave popcorn., and one crusty gym sock on the floor right next to the heard the shower running and a quick body count added up to someone else being there. He rummaged around on the floor and threw his pants on and grabbed the gun from the inner lining.

"I hope to hell that's your twin sister..." He mumbled. But the vague figure was skinny and lanky, A plume of steam wafted out with the scent of Hoja Santa, Licorice, black birch sap and Cinnamon.

"You make me feel like-a-nat-u-ral wo-man WO-Maaaaaaaan!" The man's voice was squeeky, like a teenager's.

"Garth?" Dean squinted. "Is that you?"

"Whoa-hoa Dean, Put the Gun Down, Buddy." Garth had a head full of suds and a back scrub brush.

"Garth what the hell are you doing here?"

"Sam called me over."

"Sam?"

"Yeah, tell you all about it, Jeeze don't you know how to knock?"

"Oh, right, um, wait why would Sam call you?" He demanded, covering his hand from the sight of, Garth's rather impressive Gift from God.

"Alright, nothing I'm ashamed of." Garth started to rinse off. "Sam called me last night, said you guys were in trouble and something about pineapples. When I got here the door was ajar, so I popped right in. Caught you all in flagrant e dilecto with the little miss, and figured it was a false alarm, then I figured you were like, calling me over to party with you or something."

"Did you touch that girl?"

"No, achem, no. I just watched. Didn't know if you guys were like, under a spell or what ever but you seemed to be having a good time, so I just watched." He said innocently.

Dean started to pull on his shirt violently. "For your information we were drugged last night. Ow...And you sat there and watched?"

"Look, no body bit their tongue or anything. And I figured if Sam called it was for a reason. I closed the door, and got bored when you all finished...Brilliant stamina by the way."

"What is that smell?" Dean demanded

"Root beer Float body wash with extra vanilla extract. Smells good and since I made a mess...uh with the Grape soda"

"I know what you were doing, hope you like walking around in one sock you little pervert." He looked back at Sam wondering how he'd react to this whole thing and completely creeped out over Garth's beady little eyes having watched them.

Sam began to stir in bed his heart beating fast with the knowledge he wasn't in his room. He glanced over to the petite figure in bed with him, she was curled up in his arm and resting her head on the crook of his elbow. His mouth was super dry, he could taste bitter in the back of his throat. There was a fine sheen of sweat on them both. He tried to gather up all he could by looking at her. Long polished finger nails which was probably the reason his back was raised and hot. Chapped lips but full like a movie actress. Dry hair and mottled skin. Not ringing any bells. He looked up and Den was half way in the bathroom.

"Dean? Dean!" He whispered hoarsely.

"Oh this ought to be good." He said in a low voice.

"And Garth?" Now Sam was puzzled.

"Hey Sam." Garth waved with boyish 'I've got a secret type glee'

"Dean, I'm stuck."

"I know."

Then Sam mouthed the words "look in her purse"

Dean and Garth scrambled to find one but to no avail. Dean was frustrated."What kind of girl doesn't carry a purse?"

Garth tripped over the handle to a suit case. "Found something"

He pulled it out and opened it, with a cute little hello kitty emblem on the front. A dart sprung out and got him in the forehead knocking him out. Dean carefully knelt down.

"Sammy, you're not going to believe this." Dean said.

"Oh my God, is she psycho. Does she have baby heads or something in there what?"

"Better" Dean pulled out a Horton Trac 150 Crossbow. "With ash arrows, but check out these arrow heads. Blood viles filled with sodium silver nitrate"

"How do you know?"

"Because that's what the bottle next to the holy water says on it."

"A hunter?" Sam looked down at her. "This little thing is a hunter"

The girl moaned and stretched awake slowly, not taking notice of her surroundings, walking into the bathroom, taking a pee, letting cold water wash over her face, putting on her bath robe, and cracking open a beer to take the edge off her hang over. She yawned..."I had a dream about this once, although your two jumped out of a birthday cake. And I don't remember you...oh shit!"

"Armonda?" Garth was startled.

"Garth?"

"Oh my God, Mom is going to freak out. How could you leave camp like you did?"

"Don't talk to me about mom!"

"Mom?" Sam and Dean shot each other a dread look. They had the same question in mind "Awe shit did we just screw Garth's sister?"

The two non-Winchesters started to argue in Cyrillic.

"Okay hold on, what happened? Dean attempted to break up their arguement and Garth turned on Dean like a cat.

"Knock it off you wirey little bitch!"

"You *bleeped* my sister!"

"Oh crap"

"I'm not really his sister. He's adopted. The only reason he's a hunter is cuz my family taught him." She corrected.

"Garth Get offa me!"

"She should've never been in that Bar to begin with. Roofies, you know better than to let someone buy you a drink." Garth was steaming mad.

"It's my life. You do not tell me what to do. We are not in Romania and my Honor is my own concern not yours! I was in pain...Chester left me all alone. I didn't know what to do. I killed my first monster in the mall parking lot in Vancouver. I felt powerful. I liked to save the little girl defenseless strapped in her baby seat while her mother was killed by that thing. It's all I have now."

Garth frowned deeply not being able to say a word about it, feeling guilty that he wasn't there to keep her from falling apart.

He went down stairs and sat on the hood of his car to think things over. Dean also at a loss for words shut himself into the bathroom and took a shower, letting Sam and Armonda talk some things through, while using the blankets as a Toga.

"So this is the awkward part." She said letting out a low sigh.

"Well, I guess it doesn't have to be, I mean, wow, Garth's your adopted brother...what was that like?"

"Probably how you expect, except he does have a good heart. He does bad things for the right reasons. He taught me how to pickpocket, and would take the blame when I got the way, here's yours and Dean's wallet's back. You might wanna change out the condom in there it's from 2010." She offered his wallet back.

He gave her a look. "Armonda..."

"Hey don't blame me, even drunk I wanna know the names of the guys I'm about to sleep with. Not that it happens all that often mind you."

"Me neither."

"Well, I might as well thank you, and your brother for a lovely evening. Trading a night of pleasure to subtract from the pain is a welcome change."

"How long has it been?"

"Since the bastard left me? Five years now. What can I say when I fall, it's whirlwind and when I carry a torch for someone it's libel to last forever. He said I was too intense, and he preferred variety, and that the whole time he was with me he was cheating on me in public places and with videos. The nail in the coffin was this link." While Sam loaded up his computer, she went to the mini fridge. "Fruit salad, and energy shake?"

"What flavor?"

"The salad is Cantalope, pineapple and blueberry, and the shake is strawberry."

"Just the fruit thanks." Sam clicked on the link. It was a multiple posting, layer upon layer video of the different women her Ex was doing the deed with. "Whoa."

"What a svenia, huh?" She said scooping him up a serving.

"That's pig right?"

"Yes, he's a pig."

"Hey now, I was drugged, no need to call me names since I can't remember what happened." Dean said with a fluffy white towel around his waist. Armonda looked over and blushed furiously.

"Not you, her ex, this guy makes Good Luck Chuck look like a disney family film."

"Sammy you're up, Shower's all yours."

"Right." Sam drew the sheets around himself and went into the bathroom. Dean sat down on the other chair to tie up his shoes.

"So, you said something about a case?"

"Yes, I am hunting a Ramidreju."

"Not so good with the crypto zoology, that's more Sam's thing. What is it?"

"It comes from Spain, it is a weasel like creature with a ridiulously long body like a snake, with green fur, pig nose, and yellow eyes. One was spotted by the St. George's Church vegetable Garden. "

"What's so special about this thing?"

"The church wants it alive. Apparently the thing hunts gold like a truffle pig. Bt that's only it's first inclination, what the church wants is it's pelt. It's said to be the cure all. It skin secretes a special oil due to it's ability to consume and digest gold, it's theorized that it can cause hallucinations while it heals. Just what the church needs to get the people back into the pews."

"So you want to kill it?"

"Just because I hunt does not mean I always kill, Dean. It would be to the benefit if it were bred and mass produced, primarily in countries that need it most. Like Africa where the AIDs eidemic is still raging on. I have contacts in the medical industry who would like to procure this beast to do exactly that."

"Huh, you look at the big picture then."

"In some ways. Mainly I focus on the children. Anything that can keep a child from crippling pain and torture of horrible debilitating disease." She said. Dean's stomach made a noise. "Hungry too?"

"Nah, thanks, but I'm not into all that fru fru energy bars and fruit salad stuff."

"Me neither, I like to eat healthy sometimes, but I am realistic." She pulled out a box of Loco Coco pies and a bag of Dawg The Bounty Hunter Jerky. "The Jerky brand of all good hunters"

Dean's Eyes glittered at her. She cocked her head to the side. "What's wrong, you look like you're about to cry."

"Nothing, you're just a girl after my own heart."

She glared outside at Garth.

"So, Armonda, how long are you going to let him stew out there."

"He'll get over it." She said "He gets this way. He was there when my father met our mother and dropped him off at the Genovaci camp. A few months later she was pregnant with me, but she would not tell my father. They told her if I was to be part of the camp She'd have no contact with him. My father wrote her a letter, said it was best, but that as soon as I was old enough they would give me survival training. When I was little it just wasn't for me. Running around in the woods, scaring fairies, and digging up mushrooms. I was too girly. I liked my barbies and was crushed when they bought me a Mr Potato head and the Operation game instead of My little Ponies and Barbies."

"They were trying to train you to be a medic?"

"Field medic. It wasn't until I was a teenager and my cousin was slashed at by a dire bear. He needed help and only a little nursery rhyme allowed me to recall the items needed to tourniquet and poultice the leg, stop the bleeding before his Artery bled out and he died. I kept him alive by what I recalled as a child. I left the camp. Never looked back. Put myself through my own survival training. No civilization for a year. I never got sick. I never got thirsty, after the first month. Hunger on the other hand...I could see why weasels stock pile ducks. Even better I just took from their stockpile. It's not easy to find a weasel burrow."

"Wait a minute, does that mean you are a strega?"

"Nope. I am a hunter, like you Dean. But it is a little known proverb back in Romany. To live your life it's longest. Know where the lions feed, the snakes sleep and the wolves drink and with the devils luck avoid them."

Sam came out. "Hope you didn't mind, I used your comb"

"No problem." She smiled. "I hope you'll be here when I get out. I just well, not like we just met, but I'd like to get to know you better."

"Yeah,"

"Will do"

Downstairs Dean slowly approached Garth listening to what Dean would call Angry white boy music.

"I gave her all that I had to give

I'm gonna make it hard to live

Salty tears running down to her chin

And the smears of her makeup I never wanna live

So we ran away

And I'm sorry when I say that to this very day

It was the wrong way

She took a hike it don't matter if I like it or not

'Cause she only wants the wrong way

I gave her all that I had to give

She still wouldn't take it, whoa no

Her two brown eyes are leaking like salty tears

It still ruins her makeup and never want to give"

"You done sulking?" Dean asked, ready to catch a bullet to the face. He hadn't known Garth long but this was actually the side he liked.

"Yeah." He sighed.

"So, we good?"

"I guess." Garth said looking out distantly. "I just promised her mom I'd bring her home. It's why I came here in the first place. But she's a weasel. Very hard to pin down. But I guess you, um, never mind." He said blushing.

It had Dean flush a little too. "So if I might ask, what's the deal with her dad?"

"I'd figured you'd have put it together since you know her name. I mean it's blatantly obvious, don't you?"

"So, she's not a Fitzgerald?"

"Are you telling me you...with my sister and...you didn't even...wow. now I'm even more Pissed." Garth hissed, folding his arms.

Meanwhile back upstairs,

Armonda came out of the shower damp but fully clothed in an Ed Hardy V-Neck Varsity Over sized Hoodie Tunic Varsity Dragon print with rhinestone detail, 22-1018G

BABY PHILADELPHIA MODEL DERRINGER, hanging from a utility belt made of seat belts, including two brass knuckles which made one belt buckle, Loaded up her boot knives, Her cargo pants were men's weighted pull away cargo pants.

He could tell she also had another gun at her ankle, and one at her calf, in addition to a pistol ring on her wedding finger.

"Whoa, nicely done. Armed like a tank."

"You never know what kind of trouble you come acrossed out there. I spent a little time in Santa Monica at two in the morning by the water front. The first and last time you get lost in that neighborhood."

"Really?"

"Let's just say I got out at the cost of a six pack of beer, $60 and a long cold lesson on an extended trip back to my apartment."

"So I was curious as to how many different species you've come across so far."

"I've wrestled with a pissed off Domovoi. Not fun, when they get mad they're like dealing with poo flinging baboons." She said. "A gargoyle, an Incubus... a demon inhabiting a painting. A demonic disease. A bad luck spirit. And a Kitsune."

Sam's ears perked up, "Male or female?"

"Male, and quite charming. As they are always are."

"Yeah." Sam nodded. "So you're the real deal huh?"

"Well I have been studying since I was a kid. In Laurels I changed out my manual with the books my dad sent me while we traveled on the road."

"Mormon?"

"Yeah but that's obviously not my faith. No, I've been through a lot of religions, learned their practices. Figured if there was an end to the world I'd at least know which one was right and maybe jump on the band wagon at the last minute."

"Smart thinking." Sam said. He got really quiet for a moment, lost in a thought or recalling a memory, Armonda figured.

"You look-"

"Listen Armond-"

"Go ahead-" They both said at the same time.

"Ladies first."

"M...k" She smiled. "I was just going to say you look a lot like me when you're trying to let someone down easy. It's a long weighty thought process."

He looked down, knowingly caught but comfortingly it took the edge off knowing she knew what was coming next. "The wondering if the person you just slept with is the one, if you don't want to hurt them, but maybe they'll understand"

"Yeah, work comes first, and you need to know someone is strong enough that you won't have to worry about them in battle."

"Even though you always will"

"And walking on eggs shells because they have their routine"

"ANd you have yours" They kept finishing each other's sentences, so in synch.

"And of course you don't want to risk pissing them off because hey in this line of business I mean, you never know if the person you care for is ever going to wake up in the morning."

"And the changes as people."

"Seen my own fair share of addicts in one form or another."

"People without a strong enough will or constitution are prone to possession"

"And once they get in, the other one could get hurt emotionally."

They looked at each other biting their lips until they lost color. They were at a stand stillneither one willing to take the step to accept or reject the other. Just quiet. and Still as the rosy fingered dawn cascaded over their forms in the red pale light cast after a morning storm in Illinois.

"And no one...wants to be responsible for even more pain in this world. So we deny ourselves that pleasure."

"Yeah."

Finally she took the first step in giving him peace. "Well before you go get your room key at the bar, can I add you to My-Face-Space.?"

He frowned. "You have a Face-Space account?"

"Yeah, it's mostly for furry porn and research but I have a few Social Networking Games I play as well." She said, sitting on the bed opening her laptop with a Secret Circle Decal on it.

"Is that a-?"

"An Acer With 56 Terabyte external hardrive, modified for high graphical gaming with hello Kitty Keyboard and My Little pony Mouse, Rainbow Brite Speakers and a Vocaloids head set for any Ventrillo team speak. I don't like having to put out money on burn phones when I don't have to."

"Wow, what's furry porn?"

"Um well," She blushed furiously. "You and your brother keep pretty much to yourselves right?"

"Hey, whoa we're not like that."

"Relax. Not what I was implying. Just there is a community of hunters who are a little more political when it comes to Otherworldly entities especially the animal persuasion such as the Kitsune you were asking about before. Hell If Nothern California is the Center for Vampires that live within human socital limits then Portland Oregon is the hub of Were wolves and Kitsunes, and other anthropomorphic races, both born and made. And they, for the most part get along with humans. You know, gay, straight, transgender whatever a douche bag is a douche bag, but they have special Champions of the Peace out there that are equipt to dealing with that sort of thing, clandestinely."

"WHat's that got to do with Furry porn?"

"Um, well like I said among hunters they like to draw lines in the sand. Some embrace the culture of the people, others seek to destroy it. The further east you go the less understanding people seem to be about the Otherkin races, and just like regular humans they have their own erotica. I just happen to enjoy it."

"So what, like Werewolves go out into the woods, transform and get it on?"

"Yeah, and some times they take pictures, draw or Get video. It's like a fine line between an episode of the Jersey shore and National Geographic's study on Lions mating in the Serenghetti. It's not for everyone. I just figured since the smell..."

"Smell?"

"One of the benefits of someone who's been with an..."Otherkin" they get a blessing of the scent. Lets someone know if they might be down to...or not. I can smell it on you, you were with a Werewolf a long time ago."

"That's amazing. I never knew, huh."

"So, what's your screen name?"

"Um, I don't feel comfortable sharing that with you, why don't I add you to mine?" He said.

"Sure, go ahead and log in on mine." She said smiling "I won't peek."

He logged into her laptop feeling just a little too gay for using her hello kitty keyboard for sign in."Okay so I put in Armonda Fitzgerald, but you're not coming up"

"Because that's my brother's last name."

"What's yours?" He asked, finally a chance to get the question in without sounding like a jerk.

"Well it was Greer back home but I decided to take my Father's last name when I got to the states so it's Singer."

"As in Bobby Singer?"

"Well yeah, my mom said his name was Robert but makes sense since she said he was something of a redneck. Bobby, heh, sounds so funny." She smiled.

Like lightning, Sam wasted no time in bolting downstairs to tell Dean as Dean was equally swift in getting to Sam, Both blurting on the stairs. "We slept with Bobby's Daughter!"

"Well, yeah, ya damn Idgits, what do you think I sent her to you for, you wouldn't listen to me otherwise." It was Armonda, but Bobby's voice came out of her.

Both turned Ghost white. "Bobby?"

"Listen, I don't have much time left. I could never stand to see you kids suffer, you know this. So I sent my girl in your general area to fill the void. She's the best there is at what she does aside from you two clowns. She's a Pedagoge, and she can handle herself in a fight. Take her back to my place and she'll get you two right as rain. Be good to her and she'll serve you well. I miss you boys but I couldn't leave until I knew you were taken care of.

Dean, lay off the hooch and get rid of the Impala. It's just not practical anymore. Armonda knows how to pull the genus loci out of it and transplant it to a new vehicle. Choose wisely she can only do it once. It's a time for a new chapter in your life and you can't go around in your daddy's beat up old car like a couple of teenagers. You're over thirty. Grow up." She walked over to Sam.

"Sam, I know you still got the hunger in you. It'll never be gone completely. Just your cross to bare, son and I'm sorry. Both of you, give yourselves a shot at happiness when ever you can. You're living in interesting times, just don't wallow in it, moderation is key."

She walked down stairs and to a pouting Garth. "Oh, Garth. I know you've been in love with her since the beginning. You were just too young at the time. I know I done ya wrong boy. But thank you for watching over my daughter when I wasn't fit to. I'm with her now, and she wanted me to let you know she loved you too."

Sam and Dean weren't exactly sure if he was talking about Armonda or someone else. But Garth knew. It was his darkest secret in the Greer family. He loved the matriarch. He helped her raise Armonda. He laid her to rest and never told her. Garth sobbed. "Thanks Bobby. I had to know."

Armonda grabbed Garth's hand and made like a hug to pat him on the back but whispered in his ear. "I don't care how you do it, but make Meg disappear."

Garth nodded.

"I got to go now boys. Keep fighting the good fight, and Keep her out of the strip clubs, she knocks back one too many and she get's all women's Lib and violent."

"You got it Bobby" was all Sam could think of saying hoarsley. Dean just had pain in his eyes. There was no theatrical display when Bobby left this time, no black smoke, no eyes changing color just a sigh, and Armonda standing like herself rather than a gruff 62 yearold hermit with a beer gut.

Her voice changed back to her own. "So Sam, since you guys are going, just add me to your neighbors list on your Farm Ville okay? I got a few promo bucks and I can get you the purple kangaroo or the spring hippo in a tutu...Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Your old man just paid us a visit." Dean said. "Get in the car with Garth. we're going down to the river to see a man about a trade in"

"What's that supposed to mean?" She asked.

"Welcome to the family. You're going to love your new place." Sam said quietly.

Armonda gathered up her weapons, cleaned up her room threw the crusty sock at her brother and started to get on his case for being a pervert.

"And you're not playing that punk crap so long as I'm in the car." Armonda put her foot down.

"Fine! But you're riding in the trunk!"

"The hell I am!"

Sam smirked. The whole thing felt wholesome, he felt better now that there was a little bit of closure over the situation. Wholesome. Amid the one night stands and the torturing of leviathans, and drinking of demon blood...and the endless hours on the road in the cover of night, it felt good for once. Dean on the other hand went to take a swig out of the flask. Looked at it and put it in the trunk.

"Dean?"

"You heard the man...I'm laying off the sauce."


	2. Chapter 2 The Pale Queens

Supernatural-The Pale queens Mighty with Sorrow

I don't own Supernatural, though I wish I did. I own drug speak. Warning a bit of FxF action as well as non con group fun. Enjoy.

Armonda Greer wasn't very good-looking, not in her opinion, or the opinion of many others she interacted with on a daily basis. She was just trying to keep her head down and not call much attention to herself. Mostly she hated gaining even her Bosses' attention. Seven heavily devout Christian men, all bigoted and hypocritical. She wore no make up. She let herself get fat to distract from her appeal. And if she disagreed with some political insistence of anyone around her she just put another spoonful of what ever she was eating and swallowed it down. Armonda was saddled with bad luck. Which many would dismiss as an affliction of the superstitious. Again, Armonda would just swallow the bitterness of truth of the situation and avoid notice. All of her friends were surface friends, people who banter about the news, or the weather. People who make themselves available for car pool, and suggest pot luck dinners only to bring store bought potato salad full of food poisoning everyone would eat, and complain about later.

The factory she worked at making glasses was recently procured in a hostile take over by a big company called Romatech. The New CEO insisted on a new kind of testing for the workers. Armonda hadn't smoked weed in over 3 months, though she still owned a pricey oriental glass pipe which coated from a crystal white to a jet black when smoked from. She only drank when her pain pills didn't work and the most she ever took was an Aspirin with a warm milk chaser anyway.

The whistle blew to interrupt work and everyone stood in line making their own educated guesses about what the new test might be. Some thought a drug test, others thought it might me a kinetics test. Some still thought they might have a safety test and stood reviewing their Haz-Mat pamphlets.

Armonda just wanted to get back to work and finish her stack of trays. Swing shift had it's draw backs and one was a need for Coffee. Every one was given an odd piece of paper. It had a luminescent rainbow sheen to it, and a handful of pens were sent down the line. "What in the world is this made of?"

Her thoughts were interrupted. "This is bullshit, they want you to sing, It's some kind of competition. It's unamerican I'll see you in court Roman!"

Everyone began to become more confused, put their pamphlets down and started straightening out their clothes, slicking back their hair and doing quiet yodel practice, and meter practice in the hallway.

Armonda did nothing, but continued to look at the paper with the questions on it.

Name: Armonda Ana Greer-Singer Di Genovici

Date of Birth: April 30th 1982

Age: You cannot do math?

If you were a snail, What kind of snail would you be? The Conch Snail of Australia

If you were a Dynasty character, which one would it be? Claudia Blasdel

What is your favorite color? The mustard stain on my shirt from the hot dog I ate two days ago

Why are manhole covers round? if they were heart shaped we'd never know when valentines day was

What would I find in your refrigerator right now? I don't own one, I live out of an Igloo

How many gas stations would you say there are in the United States? Too many we should convert to hydrogen. Then people might be more careful

If Hollywood made a movie about your life, whom would you like to see play the lead role as you? Ellen Muth

If someone wrote an autobiography about you, who do you think the author should be? Me

What kind of supernatural entities do you dislike? I haven't met very many.

What's the most important part of the sandwich? People.

Armonda placed her sheet in the porclean stackable left on the office desk and got into the next line. The heavy set Mexican, five employees ahead was in the sound proof room where the meetings took place. Armonda figured it was sound proof since the Owner, the old owner was a Polish Mafia Don. There was a Strega sitting in the seat next to Dick Roman, as the man flailed his arms and opened his mouth wide as though performing show tunes. His eyes bulged, the vein on his neck pulsed. He stopped holding his hat and waiting for the critique. The Strega said something. Armonda wasn't very good with lip reading. Something with S's and O's in it. She only noticed because she took a Elocution reduction class when she first came to America so she wouldn't stick out like a foreigner. Though, not getting anything current but the news back in Romania didn't help much with her reebok pumps and the over sized Guess shirt with Lisa Frank everything else really didn't help. 'Damn you Full House, Damn you to infinity. May you die on Happy Mountain' she thought.

The Mexican employee shuffled his feet out the door, trying to huff back tears. "I work here for thirty years. I got 11 kids to feed."

"Oh, Martin." a few of the older ladies empathized.

Armonda felt something was most definitely off. She continued to look at the paperwork. And suddenly it occurred to her. The questions weren't looking for actual answers, it's why they were bull shit questions. So they were looking for something else.

Armonda glanced at the girl's paper right in front of her, the way she wrote was obviously different.

What's the most important part of a sandwich? The Tomatoes?

Then she glanced back at the little old man behind her's paper.

What would I find in your refrigerator right now? Fish, beer, and bread.

"Miss...Greer?" The assistant popped her head out.

"It's Singer." Armonda corrected.

"Right," The assistant scribbled on a piece of paper. "Right this way please."

"But I'm next." Said the girl in front of Armonda. The assistant eyed her coolly.

"If I were you I wouldn't be so put off."

The girl backed down and the assistant gave Armonda a warmer more pleasant welcome, placing her hand leading her by the small of her back, which, after a few hours of labor, happened to be quite chilly and moistened by sweat.

"What can I do for you, Sir?"

"I like that, Armonda," Dick said. "May I call you Armonda?"

"It's my name." She shrugged.

"Armonda, I'm so sorry for the formality here. I assure you this will only take a moment. Would you like some water?"

"No, Sir."

"Fine, I can see you like to get to the heart of the matter. This is my associate, Miss Vasilescu."

"Ma'am."

"Dear, if you would please. We'd like it if you sang for us."

"I am not a very good singer." Armonda said.

"You don't need to be good, we just need to hear you."

"Yes, Sir. What shall I sing for you?"

"Anything you want, dear."

The strega's eyes scanned over Armonda's answers on the sheet, While Armonda was singing.

(Queen B by Puscifer)

This lady got the thickness

Can I get a witness?

This lovely lady got the thickness

Can I get a "Hell, yeah"?

Grab them saddle bags and

Toss 'em over me, let's

Ride on

This lady got the thickness

Can I get a witness?

This lovely lady got the thickness

Can I get a "Hell, yeah"?

Booty better thick-a-licious

Shake it like she's fearless

This lovely lady got the thickness

Can I get a "Hell, yeah"?

This lady got the thickness

Can I get a witness?

This lovely lady got the thickness

Can I get a "Hell, yeah"?

Grab them saddle bags and

Toss 'em over me

This Betty booty got the thickness

Can I get a "Hell, yeah"?

Can I get a witness?

Can I get a "Hell, yeah"?

The Strega looked at Dick and nodded. Dick chuckled, which seemed like he hadn't done since he begun his interviews from where Armonda could see in the hall.

"Not that it's my business, Miss Singer, but what made you choose that one?"

"It was the song dedicated to me by my last romantic encounter before I punched him out of a strip club window, sir." Armonda admitted shamefully.

"Fantastic,come with me." Dick stood up and offered Armonda the door. Odd again since it seemed like this guy was a corporate loan shark. It wasn't very sharkly to allow someone to go on ahead, unless it was to stab them from behind.

Armonda went, but very guarded. "So Armonda, the tests we gave today show you have an over 120 IQ."

"Yes, Sir."

"You're a very smart girl. Just a few points away from genius I'd imagine."

"I wouldn't go that far Sir."

"You're not in a university., you're not working for some law firm or for a political campaign of your own, why is that?"

"I like my job. it gives me time to do what I like."

"And tell me Armonda what do you like to do with that time? Really, what do you do? No offense intended but you don't strike me as someone who has a lot of friends, more like frenemies."

"Friends bring drama and I am looking for a calm life, Sir."

"Handwriting like that, you draw?"

"Yes sir, I do it all."

"What is all?"

"Draw, write, paint, make jewelry, clothes, sculpt, cut hair, make perfume, make holistic medicines, and tonics. I research-"

"Hold on, there it is, that's what I was looking for." Dick said licking his lips. "I am setting up a new research facility right here. And I want you to manage it."

Armonda raised an eye brow. "Research what?"

Dick opened the ARC Room door. (Anti reflective coating) Where there used to be nearly a hundred containers of Ether. It was all removed and now six young nubile, strong men were placing big heavy old dictionary like books in their place. Not a single man there looked over 19, and no less than a mess of muscles.

"This is Walter, Riley, Grant, Austin, Tristan and Leif, they will be your assistants. "

"For?"

"Research."

"Yes you have said that but research what, Mr. Roman?"

"Confidential company files that circulate from out in the field. You'll be doing fact checking. Fixing typos, making additions. I'm looking for informative details added. I am a man who likes to know about the businesses he acquires. I like names birth dates, anything you would find on a facebook page, but more. The why what's and where's."

"Is that all?"

"Compile the data, and turn it into this drop box here. And that's it."

"So, do I need to sign anything? Or..."

"Ah yes good girl, already doing what we pay your salary for."

"I get paid $8.00 an hour sir."

"Not according to this." He held up a copy of legally binding documents. With the Wolf, Ram and Heart LLC.

"Wait, is this legit?" Armonda adjusted her Aiden Church glasses and saw on the dotted line her name just below a salary of $80,000 a quarter.

"Don't let the name throw you, I bought the place as a spoof coffee shop and turned it into an actual law firm to attract the late 20 somethings when they need legal help."

"Well that's clever." Armonda said flatly.

"I'll leave you to it." Dick smiled. "We're counting on you, Armonda. No pressure though."

"Right...No pressure." Armonda confirmed. She got to work. There was odd requests, like fragrances for Saks 5th avenue, designated by astrological sign. Or the husbandry of Caribou in Arizona to make them particularly appealing for a mainstream meat alternative. Nothing seemed to connect.

For weeks Armonda did well but her staff was certainly pushing the boundaries of acceptable behavior. Anytime one of her underlings got the opportunity they attempted to surreptitiously stroke her fingers, or present their most tantalizing traits before her in a manor that would have her exhausted and needing a handkerchief for all the nose bleeds. Their seemingly genuine questions of how she was feeling that day were more than a bit intrusive. Always one of the young men picking up something in feats of strength, or engaging her in conversations she'd previously read on Cracked earlier that day. Always with the intense eye contact, the flirting, buying her things. Cookies, chocolates, apples, on her birthday they even showed up with Bouquets of grape hyacinths.

It only made her more suspicious, but she was much too polite to address it. The last straw though was when they brought in another lady about her age. A plucky young thing who seemed to be screaming out "Look at me!" From her very Aura. A blue eyed beauty with long golden brown hair and a British, perhaps a light Australian accent.

"Miss Greer?"

"Yes, Hello." Armonda was nervous.

"Abigail Talbot, Nice to make your acquaintance."

"Pardon me Miss Talbot." Armonda moved passed her to get to her assignment."

"Loving the talent here." She commented.

"Talent?" Armonda didn't even glance over, her focus was on the job at hand. A secret ingredient in a pasta dish in Turkey seemed to be causing a side effect of desire to consume human flesh.

"You have Chippendales all over here, Yeah?" Abigail's eyes ran over the lot of muscles.

"Miss Talbot, I don't know what you are doing here but I'll kindly ask you not to oogle my staff." Armonda looked through the nutrition list. It was all in poorly written Czech, which Armonda would almost reassuringly have to hand transcribe all 72 pages into the Google Translator in order to get the information she was looking for. She glanced up to see the woman drape her trench coat over one of the chairs she had placed active research materials on. "I'll kindly ask you to hang your jacket on the hook and mind the $10,000 petrie dish you're about to knock over there."

"What?" Abigail asked bluntly, accidentally knocking the expensive materials on the floor. Armonda pinched the bridge of her slightly upturned nose.

"Miss Talbot, is there something that you need?" Armonda asked "Because if it's all the same to you. I really need to get back to my work."

"Dick Roman sent me here to assist you. He thought you-"

"I have 6 assistants here. Most of the time they are filing refiling or trying their damnedest to find busy work. Tell me, Miss Talbot. What can you possibly do for me, that I wouldn't have to baby sit you for as well?"

At which point Abigail took this innocuous question and perverted the answer. She quickly and smoothly approached, placed her hand between Armonda's rather pendulous breasts and pushed her back in the chair, with the other hand alleviating Armonda of her white cotton panties, removing them down to her knees and burying her face into Armonda's lap, and sweetly and expertly licking Armonda's velvety petals.

Armonda couldn't help but gasp. It caught the attention of two of her assistants. Any time she tried to regain her composure to push the stranger away, Abigail pushed her nose harder against her dew soaked clit. Austin and Tristan removed Armonda's Tye-dyed shirt with the pandas on it and fondled her breasts, licking, smiling and looking up with desire. But her eyes locked like magnets on Abigail. Those eyes glittered like sun off the ocean, and it felt like they were piercing her soul.

Walter and Riley joined as well, attending to Abigail the way Austin and Tristan were attending to Armonda. Armonda's head was dizzy, Her heart pounded in her head. It was just all so friggin hot, and so unreal. Did this kind of thing really happen? Any thoughts of reality were dashed away by Abigail's swirling tongue thumping against Armonda's sweetly honey laden whispering eye. Armonda couldn't help but cum hard, toes curling and body stiffening to the release. She was terrified she was going to make a hot mess of the pretty lady. But her moan was stifled by Grant's hot mouth, pressed against hers. A quick scan had all of her assistants ready, willing, and most well equiped to please and take this all to the next level.

A voice in her head sobered her up quickly before much else could happen. "Armonda, no!"

Armonda alligator rolled off the chair and hard onto the cement floor of her office. Against her body's instincts to want to continue this and have her brains fucked out into a beautiful heap on the cold floor, she struggled away, while Abigail took her place, as the focus of their attention. That's when she saw it. Demons. Demons with claws, huge throbbing cocks and red skin like slim jim meat. Abigail was human. She was human and she was being violated by those things.

At this point the release was so wracking that Armonda had trouble feeling her legs to scramble up and get to the fire extinguisher. Her lubrication making for the fluid ease of movement but the muscles betraying her wishes.

She sloppily made it, pulled the fire alarm and regained the motor control she was seeking. *clunk!*

"Ow! you Bitch!" She had hit the one demon hard enough to split his nose away from his face and it was left hanging there while blood gushed out. Abigail who was in ecstasy, was slightly confused as lust drunk, Armonda pulled her arm to separate them. *Crack* Armonda flailed the extinguisher back handed and hit another of the demons in the head, denting it in. Walter in demon form was stuck inside Abigail unable to part, like a couple dogs trying to mate but get stuck until the male comes or gets soft. Armonda was going to help with that.

She pulled the pin and sprayed down the coupled area with enough concentration to break it off. While Tristan tried to pull the offending red bludgeoning weapon away from the angry woman.

Armonda pulled Abigail to her feet. "Run girl, run, don't look back and-"

Abigail recovered way faster than Armonda did, and shot Grant, Riley, and Austin in rapid succession. Armonda took a quick note. 'Armed too? What the hell was this?' The two half naked, soiled women made it to the parking lot.

"Do you have a car?"

"No"

"We'll have to make do."

Abigail shot out the driver side window, brushed the glass off and popped the passenger side lock to a '98 Subaru Outback. The remaining three demons came surging out of the door, chasing after the women.

"Get them, Boss is gonna be pissed."

"This way." said another.

Abigail sped out of the parking lot at top speed. "Are you alright?"

"I was going to ask you-"

"Those were incubi, yeah?" Abigail was asking if Armonda understood.

"That's my guess."

"So Dick Roman sent you, for what?" Armonda asked looking back to make sure they weren't being followed.

"I wasn't exactly truthful y'know, Luv."

"So what, he hire a high priced prostitute to what? Distract me. Everything in there felt like distraction for weeks. Dunno to what end though."

"I'm a thief thank you very much." Abigail said putting the gun in Armonda's lap long enough to wipe the bit of cum off her mouth.

"Right, a naughty Bandit, tell me another one sister."

"No," Abigail said shaking her head." I'm a merc. I go in assess the situation, grab the goods and take off no one's the wiser. I was just going to flirt with you a bit, Yeah? Distract you enough with the baby blues so yu didn't see what the right hand was doing with the left. It was a straight recover job."

"So what you're like a spy?"

"Independent contractor."

"Oh lord this is like a bad Austin Powers flick"

"I don't follow."

"The spy that shagged me..." Armonda tried to get a chuckle but the joke was lost in translation. "And what ever you were doing with your hands, it was working."

"I hadn't accounted for there being Incubi in there. Just their existence is enough for mother superior to start dancing on tables and howling at the moon. I just got pulled in."

Armonda nodded. Abigail looked at her. "But you don't seem suprized."

"A little, it all makes sense now." Armonda admitted. She put her head back against the headrest of the seat. Remembering Abigail knuckle deep within the borderline and those eyes glittering at her. " What were you trying to steal?"

"There's a Pasta dish-"

"Say no more. I know all about it. What did you need it for?"

"Seems a Bistro in Iowa has stolen the recipe and there's something of a zombie epidemic raging in Manning."

"Mellifer honey."

"Huh?"

"It's Mellifer honey. To demons it's like honey dust powder, used for sex, and often times as a seasoning for their sacrifices. Used with a combination of vervain and Meadow sweet, ingested by humans it causes a chemical hunger for human flesh." Armonda said pushing her librarian glasses up her nose.

Current day South Dakota:

"Monde? Armonda wake up we're here."

"Hmm?" She barely glanced above the depressing arid rusty metal of the area.

"We're here"

"Smells out here." She wrinkled her nose a little. "Like bad milk and urine."

"Get used to it. It's your new base of ops." Garth told her. "Your hair is all monkey lookin' you might want to take a comb to it before your boyfriends arrive."

"They are not my boyfriends." Armonda rolled her eyes."Where are we anyway?"

Garth pointed down the lot to a sign that read "Singer Auto Self Service Salvage Yard"

"No I mean where are we, I fell asleep back in Colorado."

"Just outside Sioux Falls."

"Minnesota?"

"South Dakota."

"Podunk farm country huh..."

"That would be the Milk smell, and Urine. There's chicken ranches and Milking farms all over this area."

"Huh reminds me of Napa Cali. Wine country. Nice until a crop goes bad. So spill the beans. What am I doing here?" Armonda got up brushing her hair until it got poofy soft. "Jeeze, my fortune for some styling gel and freezing mist."

"Well, Dean's got the keys so he'll be giving you the grand tour. I'm waiting on a lead to get back to me so I'll be here until you get settled in."

"I still don't know what I'm supposed to do here. I don't know anything about scrap except the little bit of sautering I did in Jewelry class in college and failed miserably at by the way."

"What you can't put beads on string?"

"Wasn't that kind of class."

Sam and Dean came rolling up in a Chameleon painted Mazda r-8. Garth gasped in awe.

"Nice." Armonda smiled. A trail of dust wound up in the area, everyone shielded their eyes.

"C'mon in."

"So this was my Dad's place huh?" Armonda walked across the creaky floor boards. It was mainly a spartan place save from the mountains of piled books.

She looked up at the ceiling, glanced down at the front door.

"Oh yeah and we picked up some Biggersons too. Eat up, you'll need your strength." Dean said setting the head of the kitchen table. Armonda looked over at the place where the phone should be.

"Five phones? I get my dad was a hunter but what's all that now?"

"Your father wasn't just a hunter. He was a hub. He had contacts for jobs, leads, an entire network for hunters. We would have been caught so may times if your old man hadn't bailed us out with this set up."

"That's nice and all guys, and thanks for taking me here to meet my dad's ghost, but I got to get back to Macomb. SO, if you don't mind dropping me off at the bus station after dinner I'll be on my way." Armonda smiled politely, wiping her mouth with a napkin and excusing herself from her chair walking briskly back out to the car and waiting.

"What the hell?" Dean looked to Sam for answers, Sam shrugged, then he looked at Garth. "What's her problem?"

"Her mom was the hub back home. She was in line to be the hub at their camp. Back then, it was raising a bunch of pigish men, with no womens rights, long hours and no pay. And even less respect." Garth explained. "It was different times and she ran away from it. "

"So what she doesn't wanna be Susie home baker, no one's making her." Sam said.

"Are we supposed to just let her walk away?" Dean asked desperately.

"Can't make her stay." Sam shrugged.

"Sure we can, I vote going out there and tying her to a chair until she sees it our way, right guys?" Garth laughed. Sam and Dean got up. Garth swallowed hard "Guys, I was kidding..."

"Armonda?"

"What?" Armonda started getting upset. "You gonna stick me here all by myself, alone waiting for things that hunted my dad to hunt me? Or to pop out a ton of little hunters in training? Stir pots of laundry and the cooking while loading ammo with my feet? It's all impressive but it's too much, it's too much too soon and I never asked for any of this. I just wanna go back to St. Georges get my hands on that green ferret and move on to the next job."

"Hang on there a minute let me talk to my brother." Sam said softly pulling Dean's arm.

"Can you believe this?" Dean began to rant.

"Listen, I get it. Maybe we can negotiate with her. You know, she doesn't owe us anything. Until yesterday she was just some chick at some bar somewhere in the midwest. And she was nice enough to let us stay safe and dry in her hotel room because you forgot the keys. The very fact that she hasn't accused us of more unsavory things in the time we've gotten to know her-"

"Biblically" Dean added.

"It's all good in my book." He looked over. "We all got our demons and she's not obliged to let us know what they are or even to accept our help with them."

"What makes you the expert?"

"We had a chat."

"Hmmm." Dean thought a minute and decided to try something he hadn't in a long time. "Alright."

"I didn't need your permission." She snapped back at him.

"No, I mean...Sam's right, you don't owe us anything. We'll take you back to your job. Hell, we're between work right now as it is. But if it would be okay to ask, Please. After this job, could you _please_ help us, temporarily, until we can get back up and running?" Dean asked with a teeth grinding irksomeness in his voice.

"You'll find someone else?" She asked.

"You're not giving us a choice." Sam muffled Dean's full answer.

"Yes. We'll...hold interviews, and research candidates or, Interns in the meantime. But it's pretty obvious, we're going to need a specialist to reform what Bobby's got here."

Armonda pulled out a cream flavored Black and Mild Cigar from her pocket, thought a moment, lit it with her Amy Brown Zippo, and took a deep inhale. She bit off a jagged piece of thumb nail, and paced a bit. Looking at them thoughtfully, thinking...eh, could be worse. "Alright, I'll do it...after that critter I catch get's to the proper authorities."


	3. Chapter 3

I don't own Supernatural, any of it's characters. Enjoy. Rated M for Mature.

Supernatural Chapter 3 Animal Control

St Georges Church, Macomb Illinois

"And here you go, Father. I hope everything is in order." Armonda handed the Priest a cat carrier with a feral pet inside. " I hope it accomplishes what you've been seeking to do."

"Thank you dear. This will help so many people. I'll be personally escorting this little guy straight to the vatican for the Pope's own team of scientists to helping God's work along with the proliferation of this remarkable creature. As we agreed the asking price in full."

"Thank you Father." Armonda put the extremely thick legal envelope in her puffy jacket, and zipped it up.

"Who's your friends, there dear."

"They helped me to catch it."

"Many of you out there, are there?"

"Dunno. I can only speak for myself and my contemporaries. However." Armonda handed the priest a business card for Floyds flower shop, and wrote her number on the back with a sparkle pen. "Should you have need of my services again I'll no longer be working for the camp. I'm going independent. You can reach me at this number. I'll be happy to help"

"Will do, and thank you again. God Bless You." He said. There was an obvious look of disdain covering Armonda's face as she walked back to the car.

"Everything okay?" Sam asked.

"Peachy" Armonda smiled. "Beats traveling the Amazon for a coatl. Thank you for your help. This one's going to be a pro-Bono thing on your part though I'm afraid. I've got big plans for my old man's spot. It'll make hunters all around feel perfect."

"What are you setting up a spa or something?" Dean chuckled, letting Armonda in the back seat.

"You'll see." Armonda smiled. "I've been writing something up in the backseat here. Save for the bumps in the road seems like we'll be on budget."

A few weeks later, Sam and Dean checked in at Bobby's just as Armonda was headed out the door.

"Oh?"

"Armonda?" Dean asked helping Sam in the door. He was obviously injured. His shoulder was bleeding profusely and he was dripping on the new rug.

"Well don't just stand there get him over here to the medical station." She said with concern mixed with a hint of agitation, as she lead the two over to the section of the kitchen which looked more like a school nurse's office.

"Medical station?" Dean looked around the house. There were walls missing, reinforced studs with enochian symbols carved in the supporting beams. What looked like metal injected into the crevasses. There was a Medical station, a mess station, A sign posted with a hallway extension saying "Gentleman's Quarters."

Armonda pulled out the hurt-free antiseptic wash and flooded Sam's shoulder to get a better idea of the damage once he removed the jacket. It was bad, Armonda could see torn muscle, and a thin layer of fat deposit under the skin.

"Alright you're going to need stitches. Hold still."

"Got a newspaper, or something for me to bite down on?" Sam asked in a husky voice, trying to betray the feeling of throbbing pain in his shoulder.

"Yeah, one second." She said looking at her watch."Oooh, dammit I'm going to be late."

"Late for what?" Dean asked. " Wow, you've been busy."

"I have a..." Armonda tried to search for an excuse, a lie. But she was drawing a blank. "Thing...at 8:30."

"A thing?" Dean asked. "What thing?"

"A private...thing, that I have to be on time for or I'm going to be in big trouble, so If you don't mind. I have a bus to catch. Dean can you finish this up?" Armonda said grabbing her little black back pack. "Sorry, Sam."

"Wait. Why don't I take you to this thing after you patch up my brother. He could use a woman's touch." Dean reasoned.

Armonda gave a frustrated little huff. "Sure. Just...ask me no questions and I'll tell you no lies. I'll talk to you about it when I'm ready but this is my business, understand?"

The men shot each other a knowing look. Sam would be checking into it. She only held Dean to the conditions.

"Yup, Got it." Dean said, continuing to look around. "You did all of this?"

"I have contractors coming in the morning to work on the Women's lavatory, and the play ground. I figured, not a lot of female hunters so, it could wait for now."

"You turned Bobby's place into a compound."

"Yeah, well. When you're raised in one for a decent portion of your life, you kind of know how to recreate what feels like home." Armonda explained.

"I thought you were raised in a gypsy camp in Romania" Sam asked, as Armonda handed him a sterile mouth guard.

"Stop trying to poke holes in my background. I'm a powerful ally that a lot of people have utilized over the years. But they tend to suffer when they rely on me and it's time for me to go. "

Armonda sewed up Sam's shoulder carefully. Opened something that looked like a suppository, and mixed it with crushed up ginger,and smeared it roughly over the wound. It hurt Sam so much it took all he had to dig his nails into his leg and not punch her in the face. "God, what is that? It burns"

"Settle down. I tried to get the real thing. Armonda said putting the sewing kit away. " Y'know, Morphine. But the only way they would sell it was in these hydro-morphone suppositories. That Ginger concoction will kick in in just a few minutes. Should help you sleep. Now, Dean. Please let's go."

"Right."

"And Dean, Please don't get stingy with the gas, you know I'm good for it."

"Right." Dean jingled the keys in his pocket against his Zippo lighter. "Be right back Sam."

Being a gentleman, Dean let her go first out the door. And made the "Call me" motion toward Sam.

A few minutes later they approached a church. "Right over here off of South Terry."

"Sunny Crest, United Methodist Church." Dean was now even more confused because she didn't seem the type to be a Mehodist, much less be having a crisis of faith. Why would she? She was with the two men who could protect her and educate her with their experiences in all things angel at least.

"Thank you for the ride, Dean." She said preoccupied with the church in her view. She unlocked the passenger side door, and prepared to exit when Dean grabbed her hand.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Dean asked looking for any sign of deception. She just looked down at the ground blushing. Seemed like she was trying to avoid eye contact with his hand.

"I'm okay, I'm just running late."

"You gonna need a ride home?"

"Nah I'll manage. You and Sam get some sleep. You gotta be beat. Night Dean."

Armonda rushed inside, and Dean called Sam. "Anything?"

"Her room's locked."

"Anything around the house."

"No, I'm guessing everything is in her room."

"Go on and bust into Fort Knox then Sammy, I'll be there soon to help out."

"Dean," Sam had that whine in his voice. "Maybe we should *yawn * just let this one go. Like she said."

"That's Bullshit Sam, and you know it. Why you getting squeamish all of a sudden anyway?" Dean chided his little brother. "When you were sneaking out of the hotel room for late night beer runs what were you doing?"

"Getting together with Ruby..."Sam said feeling guilty.

"And Bobby when He told us not to come over and it turned out he was playing house with his dead wife?"

"Alright I get your point."

"Oh and Sam," Dean looked in his rear view mirror to make sure Armonda hadn't come out or he wasn't otherwise being watched. "Be careful. Garth got that dart to the forehead, no telling what booby traps she has cooked up in that house, Okay?"

"See you soon."

Meanwhile at Sunny Crest Church, a group of people who seemingly had no connection to one another gathered in the children's play area. A kindly, portly reverend Stood before them.

"Welcome, all. For those of you who may be new here or have stumbled in by mistake. This is Sex Addicts Anonymous. We are a 12 step program for those who are recovering from their sex addiction. Very much like Al-anon, we have a chip system to mark your sobriety from lust. I see we have some new people here tonight. As well as some well known faces. Would anyone like to share this evening, to get us started?"

The room was quiet except for a heavy set woman scarfing down the donuts in the corner. After an uncomfortably long silence, a man with long hair and a prominent bald spot on the top of his head, stood before everyone.

"Hi,"

"Please," The Reverend asked. "State your name."

"Hi, I'm Avery."

"Hello Avery" everyone said in a robotic, monotonous voice.

"And I am a Sex Addict."

"Welcome." The hum of the robot crowd said in unison.

"Welcome, Avery. DO you have anything to share tonight?"

"Yeah," Avery fumbled with his hat in his fingers, nervously swaying unconsciously from side to side as he explained. "I've been nine years sober. And I have to tell you folks it does get was a woman in the check out, and it felt like we were just, smacking with kismet. I thought about it...sex...with her. I wanted to so badly. And even though the night was going really well. I asked her to leave. And when she wouldn't understand. I left."

"Excellent willpower, Avery. Everyone give Avery a hand." said the priest. "Thank you Avery. Does anyone else wish to share today?"

Armonda stood up, and approached the podium, and cleared her throat a little." I'm Monde, and I'm a sex addict."

"Welcome."

"I, have to give this back..." Armonda stood with a pink painted gold plated sobriety chip with an engraved number 4 on it. " A few weeks ago. I backslid"

The room became frowns and whispers. Armonda swallowed her angst. "I was 4 years sober. And I put myself in a position of weakness, allowing myself to drink hard liquor, and gamble against my life, and my limits. Seeking to help a man who was choking, I was unaware someone had slipped some kind of drug in my drink. I was too intoxicated to notice. I gave the man my beer, and he intern dosed his very own brother. I saw they were intoxicated. I know now, I should have called them a cab. But I didn't. I knew I should have let them stand in the rain and sober up over night. But I didn't. And because of my mistake, I involved two innocent men into my addiction."

"I'll be taking that Monde." The Reverend replaced the chip with a flimsy white plastic one. "We're very disappointed in you. "

"I know."

"Four years is a long time for sobriety. A very well maintained control over your desires for the flesh. Can you tell us, what was your Trigger, so we all might be able to avoid such mistakes in the future."

"My ex girlfriend, Abigail died, and it just brought to the surface years of failed repressed feelings of failed relationships. It was the anniversary of her death."

"Then you should have known how events like weddings, death, a new birth. Times of celebration and remorse, could cause one to fall off the wagon. I hope you'll think long and hard about the consequences of your actions before allowing your libido to conquer your soul, Monde."

"Yes, Father." A tear rolled down Armonda's cheek.

"Oh stop," The Reverend. "Whores look awful when their masquera runs."

"Yes Father..."

"Anyone else have anything to share?"

Mean while back at Bobby's Place. Dean had come back and the two were preparing to pick the lock on Armonda's room door. "I wonder if she did anything to her room, She revamped everything else."

"You said it, Sammy. It's like she called Hoarders on this place and they moved in David Koresh's living-room." Dean said with audible distain for a change in tradition.

"I dunno, I kinda like it modern in here. Makes it a lot easier." Sam defended. Dean rolled his eyes.

"Right, have you smelled the kitchen? She needs aroma therapy because it smells like a hospital in here, Sam. Ammonia on the walls, bleach on the floors, the fumes from new Thompsons water Seal...No, it smells like a hardware store."

"Got it." Sam announced in a 'eureka!' tone. "Whoa!"

Sam jerked Dean out of the way just in time to avoid some non lethal but seriously nasty coffee filters held by loose multicolored hair scunciis, bursting in a puff of Habenero chili powder.

The two began coughing and choking. Tears blurred their vision, the cloud was enough of an irritation. Through the coughing and wincing Sam noticed safety goggles hanging outside her door on a peg. "Dean *cough-Kaf Cough!*

Dean grabbed them and went stumbling down the stairs. Sam noticed a Dustbuster in the hall way bathroom and grabbed it, heading back to the room while Dean used the eyewash sink at the medical station.

"That Bitch!" Dean cursed once he got his composure back. "She totally three ninja'd us."

"That probably means more boobie traps."

"What is she, Twelve? Jesus what other kind of Nancy drew BS are we going through here? Sharks with Lazers?"

"Mouse traps." Sam confirmed peeking in before carefully bracing the door. "You know she's going to figure out we've been in her room when she gets back, if the pepper wasn't enough evidence."

"We're fine, you worry too much." He pushed the door open and carefully avoided the mouse traps.

"Besides we kind of deserve it since we're spying on her."

"It's for her own good, Sammy. If Armonda is in some kind of trouble, we need to address it now so it can be dealt with and we move on. We don't need any of us compromised by suspicion, regret, guilt or anything else that'll keep us from being a fully functional team. Now. I'll get the bathroom, you check her dresser."

"Why do I have to check her dresser?" Sam insisted on knowing, while being the obedient little brother.

"Because if she catches us in here you're the pervert and I was just taking a dump."

"Jerk." Sam muttered under his breath opening her top drawer. k-mart brand boy shorts in a bunch of different prints. Camisoles to match and cute little socks rolled up into puff balls like his dead fiance Jess used to do. Sam came acrossed an array of utility outfits, mostly uniforms, not much in the way of sweats or t-shirts. "Dude!"

"What, Sam?" Dean Echoed from the bathroom.

"She has a real flight attendant's uniform from Japan."

"Like the ladies in uniform do you?"

"Not that, this thing goes for the upper hundred thousands on e-bay. It's a sex fetish thing."

"Kinky."

"Not really"

"What?"

"Well it's weird. Normal women, have...marital aids."

"Dildos?"

"Well..." Sam Blushed. "Well I mean Jess, and Ruby said it's something chicks do between boyfriends, and depending on how uh, open the relationship they get their boyfriends or husbands into it too."

"Sam, did Jess use her dildo on you."

"No!"

"The lady boy doth protest too much..." Then dean smirked and searched his thoughts "

"We were...experimental"

"What ever get's you off, now lets change the subject because I do not need that image in my head."

"Right."

Dean checked the toilet tank, to see a gun in a Ziploc bag strapped to the lid. He pulled back the shower curtain and saw the cutlery set hanging from the curtain. "Oh my god I'm in love."

"What did you find?"

"Check it out." Dean pointed to the concealed set of a machete, a bowie knife, a hunting knife and a butterfly knife, a prison grade shank and a toothbrush shiv. "I like it. Check for serial killers then shower. She's...hmm?"

"What?" Sam asked noting Dean had stopped mid thought. Something caught his eye.

"What's that?" Dean asked rummaging under the bathroom sink.

"Uh, I just see a plunger and box of powder bleach."

"This thing" Dean said grabbing a box. "Smells sweet like slurpee. Seriously though how can one woman have all this shampoo in her bathroom. How much of this girl crap do you need?"

"Dean?"

"I mean, strawberry Guava for split ends, Root beer amaretto for a humectant. What the hell is sa Humectant?"

"Dean..."

"What?"

"Douche Bag"

"Bitch."

"No, Dean. You're holding a douche bag."

"What?" He dropped it on the floor and it splashed everywhere. The look of horror spread across Deans face as he obviously got the willies.

Sam was the mature one and threw a towel on the mess. And went to check on Dean. "For someone who's trying not to get caught, you're doing a hell of a job, Dean."

"Sam, don't talk to me. That was so gross! Why do girls have to be-Ugh!" Dean was still very disgusted sitting on Armonda's bed, and sunk down in. "I forgot that was actually a thing. I've been usuing it as an insult so long. Whoa!"

"Dean?"

"Water bed?" His eyes perked up. "No way they still make these?"

"Apparently."

"How did you know what that was anyway?" Dean inquired.

"I was almost married. Jess and Ruby both had some with their tampons and other girl stuff." Sam explained.

"Well you're a wealth of wussy information tonight." Dean glanced over to the book shelf. How Sam would have missed something so obvious as a hollowed out encyclopedia was beyond him.

"Check this out." Dean said. "Diary, and pages of something else...Take a look."

"Latin...Enochian...Not entirely sure but this looks like early Phoenician or Maybe Akkadian...Huh." Sam bit his lip scanning over the material. "She's thorough...Looks like she was following everything on her own. There's stuff in here I didn't even know about Lilith."

"And this diary covers back to 2000. Nothing before that though." Dean posted.

"She's Meticulous. I think I'm going to need to brew a pot."

"You getting a Jist?"

"Yeah, I mean it's all the blow by blow descriptions of Lilith, Lucifer, some Angel called Samael, who was said to be the poison of God."

"God Made God Poison?"

"Dunno looks like it. The one Angel that could kill him."

"So God is dead?"

"Well God is now Castiel. But yeah, looks like there was an Angel that could kill the old God. I wonder if-"

"Dude." Dean found it. "Looks like she thought she was hearing voices when she was a kid, well, teenager. But it was Castiel."

"What?"

"Look right here..." Dean read. " After I found out the Circle was going to stuff me in the back of Damien's Trunk, I bolted like a bat out of hell but they were waiting for me when I snuck out the window. I thought it was the end for me. Mary had the blade against my throat. I looked the bitch in the eyes. Her's mirrored soulless as mine. The bitch mirrored me. I thought I was the only one who could pull out like that. They all looked at me with murderous intent. They accused me of things I would never do. Damien said I was a dopple ganger, that I had taken his sister and I was masquerading in her skin. But it was him. Bazzel wasn't riding his meat suit anymore. It was something else. Something more dangerous. But they couldn't see it. WHy couldn't they? Why couldn't they see I was trying to save them? why were they siding with that Monster. Damien's not in there anymore. Something hollowed him out and is hunting me. He chased me to the Rainbow Bridge, I had no choice but to jump. "

Dean turned the page giving Sam a knowing look. "A man in a grey trench coat and smelled of sweets pulled me over the edge. A flash of white light and we were on the bank. He told me to run. Said they would sleep now and not come after me so long as they didn't see me. He said his name was Castiel and that the Apocalypse was coming but I was one of the chosen few who it would not touch. He didn't tell me anything more than that. But now I have glimpses of heaven behind my eyes when I close them. I wonder if the Prophet Elijah had a similar experience."

"So are we thinking the same thing here?" Sam asked. Armonda made it home. She didn't see the Winchesters down in the figured Sam would be sleeping off his bad shoulder. But Dean wasn't watching movies. And with the Big eater he was, she anticipated the clanking of mayonaise or pickle jars in the fridge after the making or consuming of a sandwich or the like. When she discovered the Kitchen empty she closed her eyes and focused on the noises in the house. It creaked as it was settling to get used to it's renovations. Her eyes closed she could smell them both, Dean wore some kind of cologne, expensive stuff with the dark suade, tooled leather, with a backdrop of Oak and Tobacco flower.

Sam on the other hand was more of a naturey type, silver birch, golden amber, and bitter orange from the summoning spells and protection incantations used. Those Enochian Mages loved their amber and fruit. Her eyes closed she could in-vision the room, and see their comingled scent trails like a cg of a dog on the Dicovery Channel saw scent. "So are we thinking the same thing here?"

Armonda snapped back to her senses. She warned them. Now she would be fumigating their scent out of her room for the entire next day. They didn't know how much that kind of thing upset her. Not the breaking in to her room, though it was the kind of perturbance she was used to when living in caravans, and homeless shelters. No privacy. Little brothers going through her things. Elders admonishing her for getting into things she shouldn't be dabbling in.

She didn't want Sam and Dean to go away though. She was just a bit saddened they didn't trust her. It was okay. It would come in time. Not knowing exactly how she wanted to handle it she figured discretion was the better part of valour, walked over and slammed the front door to give them time to cover their tracks. Besides, she now could feel free to raid their rooms later snooping for more.

Both men came traipsing down stairs double time. "Oh hey, Did you just get back?"

"Yeah, figured I'd make us some dinner." she said pulling food from the fridge. "Hope you like Thai food."

"Oh nothing for us. We ate already." Dean said.

Sam pulled out a bowl wrapped in serran wrap. "Saved you some. Nothing fancy, just some steak, mushrooms and zucchini."

"I look forward to trying it. It's been forever since a man cooked for me." Armonda fake smiled sadly.

"So before you eat, could you show us where we're sleeping?"

"Sure, let me get you to your rooms." Armonda lit a candle. "I'm afraid we don't have electric down this way just yet the electrician hasn't hooked everything up just yet. The bathroom lights work though so if you want I can leave that on for you in the hall."

"It should be fine." Sam said softly.

"These are the two biggest rooms I have. Sam, You're on the left, Dean you're on the right. I hope you guys don't mind but I took the liberty of putting up protections. I figured you could choose your own wall paper if necessary." Armonda shed the light over the walls in Sam's room.

"Thank you Armonda." Dean flashed his Casanova smile. Sam feared a little that Dean might get lucky with her. It wasn never really discussed who's woman she'd be if either decided to persue her. Armonda made it abundantly clear in the Hotel room she wanted none of it.

"Good night," She said. Dean reached out a hand as she went to leave and grabbed her wrist flirtatiously.

"No!" She screamed.

Dean raised an eyebrow. "What the hell, so you scream in my face?"

"Sorry, good night, I have to go to bed, the contractors will be back in the morning early. I need sleep."

Armonda shuffled away and up the stairs not daring to look back at him. If it was one of her vices/fetishes, it was being grabbed by her wrists and forced against the wall or tossed like a rag doll on the bed and ravished by her lover.

But it was a temptation she would have to avoid. Once She cleared the hallway Sam popped his head out into the hall. "Dean? What the hell was that about?"

"Blue balls, Sam. She's being a damn tease." Dean figured.

"Think she knows we were in her room?"

"Pipe down you want her to hear us?"

"No." Sam said looking down the hall with concern. "I got her diary. I'll finish it tonight and report in the morning."

"Right, I'm gonna go rub one out."

"Ew."

"Night Sam."

Meanwhile, while the men slept, Armonda spent the night asperging the room, vaccuuming, and trying desprately not to fall into the weirdo stalkery ways she was prone to. Dean decided to have himself a little self love. Which he was totally opposed to. Call him a sexist pig, bigoted, but one of the few perks of being on the road was picking up some strange along the way. Or at least having something to keep his bed warm when he pulled into the closest place he could consider home. So sue him he loved to cuddle with this semi hardness cupped in the soft ass of a pretty girl.

As Dean began to take matters into his own hands... Armonda crept down carefully. Excited and happy because she dampened the noise on the floors. The only way she would be detected was if either one of them came out of their rooms to use the toilet. There was extra padding on the carpet, and she changed the wood in the hall to straight concrete so no creaking. Tactically it was great. If someone invaded their place they wouldn't hear anyone shuffling about. She'd changed into her flanel night gown. The kind a grandma would wear and not at all sexy. She posed herself at the crack of his door. When he saw him pulling at himself her jaw lowered. She hadn't seen muche during their first interaction. From what she could see in the darkness the stem he pulled on was thinner and longer. She looked at her fingers and tried to measure at a distance Two fingers, maybe three wide. And he gripped tight. She didn't understand the appeal of watching this. Maybe if he was with someone and she caught a look. She's walked in on her brothers before. And breifly it was just like her little brothers pulling pud, and she wasn't interested. She treated the whole thing as dispassionate recon for future reference in case they ever did do anything again, their interactions would flow better. 'Yeah, that's it. Scientific curiousity.' she told herself.

His breathing was erratic, he was getting close. 'Well I might as well stay for the end' she thought. Beginning to walk away and glancing back. Her hand wandered down pased her navel...

"Armonda?" Sam said quietly, her fool proof plan of silent floors had back fired. She had the deer in headlights look. She was caught. She went to bolt forward, and Sam caught her by the arm and covered her mouth, picking her up and pulling her into his room.

"Armonda what the hell?" Sam whispered demandingly. "I don't know what kind of game you're playing but if you were trying to kill Dean you gotta get through me first."

"But I wasn't!" Armonda blurted, her cheeks red hot with embarrassment.

"Then what the hell were you doing outside my brother's room?"

"I was...I-I'm sorry I..." She looked down ashamed. That's when Sam noticed her nipples were hard. There was a slight wet spot on the front of her night gown and she was slowly dripping down her leg and onto the carpet.

"Whoa were you...?" He swallowed hard. He'd only ever once met a girl who could squirt, and shortly after a night of intense passion he had to put a bullet in her. She'd been a werewolf. But Armonda stood there like a little girl who got in trouble. "Damn, I thought Dean was a pervert."

"Sam, it's not like that..." Armonda said dizzy, and quiet.

"Then what then?"

"I'm an addict, Sam." She said as tears poured down her face emotionless. "I got issues. K' I'm a sex addict and I lost my sponsor and I don't know what I'm going to do. There's all these triggers and I never meant to be like-"

Sam's face softened toward her. He of course knew something of what it was like to be addicted. "I'll get you a towel, come sit down."

She sat on the towel on the end of Sam's bed in the dark with him lighting the single candle she'd left for him. He brought her a cup of tea, and sat cross legged on the bed with her.

"Now tell me about it. If you're suffering a Trigger or a craving it's best to address it and get through it." Sam said.

"Happened about four years ago. My girlfriend Abigail and I were assaulted by a team of Incubi. I got us out of the situation but, I was changed by the experience. Abigail broke up with me because the frequency and time consumption of the act were becoming more and more, longer and longer. She said I was insatiable. That she didn't feel adequate in bed because a nice little romp never did so much as take the edge off. I needed more. Toys weren't enough. I've tried meditation, keeping myself. Now I can't have anything. You caught me falling off the wagon."

"Wow, I've never dealt with anything like that before. Is that why you were so secretive earlier?"

"Yeah I didn't want you guys to know I was going to a sex anon meeting." Armonda said. "my urges are dangerous, Sam. They're powerful and they've lead me down traumatic roads. My luck seems to be equal to my activity. The more I get lucky, the more people around me get hurt by external influences. It's too certain to be a coincidence."

"You said this is all because an Incubus kissed you?"

"Yeah."

"And you didn't like, sell him your soul or anything right?"

"No."

"I'll look into in the morning. Fresh eyes, just in-case you missed something. Though I highly doubt it."

"How's that?"

"You're methodical..."

"How do you know that?"

"Um...not important. What is important, is getting you back to sobriety. So I'm going to do you a favor and do this." Sam pulled out some hand cuffs. Armonda's herat leapt into her throat. He was very warm and it had been bitterly cold outside. A reminder of it when the silvery birch scent wafted in her face emanating from his muscular form.

"What are you going to do with those?"

"I'm going to cuff you to the bed and I'm going to go sleep in one of the other rooms. Armonda was confused for a moment until he cuffed her.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to let you fall off the wagon. You can count on me. We'll get through this with you."

"Does Dean have to know? It's embarrassing enough as it is."

"Would you rather I tell him what you were doing skulking outside his door?"

"No..." She looked at the floor. He lifted her chin to look her in the eyes.

"Hey. It's going to be alright. You'll see. Keep your mind on the job and things have a way of working themselves out." Sam smiled, gabbing a foldeed blanket off the chair in his room.

"G'night, Sam..."

Sam nodded at her and left the door open only a crack. As he did so, a black eyed presence shown in the light of the window. It had arrived behind the door and watched Armonda and smiled.


End file.
